Sympathy is Death
by traceyourshadows
Summary: Rem always respected humans' emotions; unfortunately, such sympathies aren't exactly respected by the other shinigami.


The images of earth depicted on the surface of the weathered sphere had stopped swirling a few minutes ago.

By default, the orbs showed glimpses of the lives of humans at random, none for longer than a millisecond. Inconsequential, orange-tinted blurs were resultantly the only things that could be discerned by human eyes; however, the orbs only behaved as such when nobody operated them. Although they remained unused more often than not, there were a few beings who still committed regular time to sitting in front of them, doing their best to retain their livelihood even when life's purposes could only be questioned.

The skeletal creature standing before the omnivisual sphere was one of those few.

She'd long since accepted that her existence very well might lack meaning. This was the burden all the others who lived in this barren, windswept realm bore; however, despite this state of mind, she'd also long ago determined that since she had an existence at all, she might as well do her best to sustain it. As a shinigami, a god of death, this required her to devote time to writing the names of humans in her notebook of death—which, in turn, led to frequent vigils before the globular structures that offered visage into the humans' world.

Usually, the process didn't last long. You peered into the orbs, you directed their focus to one human (or humans) in particular, you observed the human's name, and then you wrote it into your notebook. In under a minute, the human underwent heart failure, and the shinigami responsible received the remaining years the human would've lived if not for their unlucky fate. The shinigami could easily attain an infinite lifespan by ambling through the simple procedure, and the brief amount of time required left them with boundless time.

Today, however, Rem found herself stalling over what the portal showed her. It wasn't anything unusual by human standards; the shinigami had first begun watching as a brown-skinned, adult male ambled toward his residence, weariness stretched on his face. By the time he approached his door, Rem had raised her death note and touched pen to the pale paper—but it was when her gaze passed back from the paper to the orb that her hand froze.

The human was no longer alone. A juvenile female, mouth stretched wide and eyes sparkling, had launched herself from the doorway towards the male while a fullgrown female remained in its shadow with a curve in her lips and creases outside her eyes. The sight was perfectly normal, yet Rem found herself transfixed by their expressions of happiness, especially the way the male's expression morphed from exhaustion to joy the moment the small human raced toward him. He crouched on the ground, casting aside his briefcase and spreading his arms; the niche between them fit the little female as she collided with the male's chest, giggling mirthfully. The man swooped her up, carrying her in his arms toward the doorway and touching his lips to her hair.

The sound of a smooth underbelly dragging across dirt alerted Rem to the approach of another shinigami, but she ignored the new presence in favor of continuing to watch the humans. Her observations only lasted a few seconds longer, however. The male promptly walked up to the female waiting in the doorway, pressed his lips to hers for a long moment, then set the partially grown female on the ground and closed the door behind them. Although Rem could easily have directed the sphere to show her the innards of the building, she found herself surprisingly reluctant—so, she instead allowed the sphere to display its default imagery.

Just as she was about to refocus on a different human, the sonorous voice of the newly arrived shinigami permeated Rem's mind.

_You are not killing these humans?_

If it had been any other shinigami, Rem might have offered only a monosyllabic reply whilst continuing with her business; however, this death god was one who demanded the utmost respect. Acquiescing to the natural pecking order that existed among the shinigami, Rem lowered her hands, which still clasped her death note and pen, and turned from the large orb to the shinigami behind her: Nu.

Several of Nu's eyes trained on Rem, enough that the tall, white shinigami knew Nu was quite intrigued by her actions.

"No," she simply responded.

_Yet you observed them for quite some time._

"Yes."

_Why have you done this?_

"Their emotions interested me."

_Why did you not choose to kill them?_

"I didn't desire to choose them as my victims."

Contempt permeated the shinigami's stately one. _You sympathize with them?_

". . . yes," Rem had to admit. She wouldn't under normal conditions find such a confession difficult, but Nu's obvious disapproval frustrated Rem. It was difficult to express anything to her without feeling subordinate.

Nu's answer was a few moments in coming. _How foolish._

Rem managed to maintain a level expression; it was easy after centuries of practice. The irritation she felt now claimed no part of Rem's face or stature—but that didn't mean it wasn't there.

_Sympathy is the death of a shinigami, Rem. To willingly submit yourself to such is very unbecoming of a shinigami._

Rem refrained from refuting Nu. She knew that the authoritative shinigami wouldn't take well to any assertion that human emotions weren't truly harmful. It was a popular saying among the shinigami that sympathy was their death, but Rem had never paid heed to the surely exaggerated claim.

_Let us hope your mistake will not be your undoing._

Nu's eyes burned into Rem for a moment, who only gazed silently back. Rem held her tongue, and at least the powerful, monochrome shinigami turned and squirmed towards a different orb.

Relieved, Rem returned to her task. She didn't particularly agree with Nu, but all the same she was quick to select a proper victim and write its name in her notebook. Despite her speed, Nu was gone by the time Rem looked up again.

As she began traversing the sand, making her way towards the more frequently populated portions of the shinigami realm, Rem could only wonder what would happen upon her return. Nu didn't usually refrain from spreading gossip, so it was likely the whole of the shinigami realm would've heard about Rem's 'mistake' by the time she rejoined the others.

A sigh slipped from her lips. This could turn out to be quite irritating.


End file.
